


Red Eye

by justacookieofacumberbatch (buffyholic)



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-29
Updated: 2016-02-29
Packaged: 2018-05-23 20:58:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6129870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/buffyholic/pseuds/justacookieofacumberbatch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>James and John are having a slow day at the coffee shop where they work, but things get more interesting when a certain dark-haired detective shows up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Red Eye

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MonikaKrasnorada](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MonikaKrasnorada/gifts).



> Just a little something quick, and not-so-dirty to cheer up my friend. It's written fast and un-betaed, so I make no guarantees as to the quality.

_Ding-a-ling-a-ling._

John grabbed a Sharpie, eyes intent on the point-of-sale screen as his right hand hovered near the selection of cups. “What can I get for you?”

“Medium red eye, room for cream.”

John nodded, scrawling the order on a paper cup. “One shot or two?”

The customer hummed. “Two, I think.”

John nodded, writing _x2_ below _espresso_. He glanced up as he set the cup aside. “Rough night?”

“Probably.”

John’s gaze shot up, a furrow appearing between his brows. “Sorry?”

The customer, a rangy man with wild curls, held up a thick accordion file.

“I see.” John’s eyes caught on the customer’s as he rang up the drink. “Name?”

“Sherlock.”

John wrote down the name on the cup and slid it down the line. “Three pounds.”

Sherlock handed over a five-pound note, but as John opened the cash register, Sherlock wandered off, mumbling behind him, “Keep the change.”

John held the note aloft over the cash drawer, staring agape after the stranger. What a strange bloke. With a grunt of a laugh, he filed away the note and dropped two single-pound coins into the tip jar.

“I saw that,” came a voice to John’s right.

John looked up to see James packing a double shot of grounds at the espresso maker. His eyes were resolutely on his task, but a smirk crooked his features.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” scoffed John.

James nodded towards Sherlock as he attached the filter holder to the machine. “Let it never be said you don’t have a type.”

“A type?”

James hummed, starting the water through the grounds. “Tall, lean, blue eyes, high cheekbones.”

John pulled him down by the collar, planting a kiss on his lips. “You sound like you’re describing yourself.”

James spun away, twirling the cup in the air before plunking it under the spout of a coffee urn. “Do I? I think I just proved my point.”

John gave James’s arse a smack. “Well then, you forgot bloody gorgeous.”

“He is, isn’t he?”

John’s tongue tugged on his bottom lip as a grin spread across it. “Oh, so you were looking, too.”

James poured in the espresso shots, capping the cup with a flourish. “I have a pulse, do I not?”

“Is that what they’re calling it these days?”

James avoided eye contact, but his smirk was hard to miss. Sliding the cup across the counter, he called, “Sherlock.”

John leaned his arse against the counter in front of the espresso maker, hauling James over by the shirt until he could whisper against James’s mouth. “Admit it, if we weren’t together, you’d be thinking of ways to ask him to have it off with you in the loo.”

James curled his hands over John’s hips. “I would rather you were there with us.”

John raised an eyebrow, a chuckle not quite making it up his throat. “Oh, would you now?”

James nodded, his expression growing wicked. “I wouldn’t mind getting you naked between us. I could rim you while he sucked your cock. Did you see his mouth?” 

“Jesus.” John licked his lips, a low throb of arousal pulsing through him. It was just the one customer in the shop. They wouldn’t be missing much if they popped off to the back room for a few minutes. There was always the bell over the door to alert them if someone came in.

John flinched at a heavy thunk followed by a splash, and James’s eyes went wide as he jerked away from John.

“Oh, bugger,” came a deep voice from behind them. Sherlock. Oh, bugger was right.

John spun around to see coffee dripping over both edges of the counter, Sherlock’s shirt splashed taupe across the front. Rushing around to the front, he said, “Oh, shit. Are you all right?”

“Fine.” Sherlock tugged the clinging fabric from his stomach, wincing.

“Here, let me.” John reached over the ledge in front of the espresso maker, grabbing a wet rag from a tub of disinfecting water. James was already sopping up coffee from the counter, and John reached gingerly past him to run fresh cold water over the rag.

John reached for Sherlock’s stomach with the still-sopping rag, but Sherlock took it from his hands before he made contact.

“Right,” John said. “Of course. Can I get you anything else?”

“No, I’m fine. I was just… startled.”

John did his best to suppress the feeling of his cheeks heating. Anything could have startled Sherlock. “Oh?”

Sherlock’s own cheeks flushed. “And flattered.”

John’s cheeks blazed, but as he glanced at James, a grin spread. “Oh. I hope we didn’t embarrass you. It was just-- We were-- We didn’t mean anything by it.”

“Pity.”

“What?”

Sherlock handed John the now-tan-colored rag. “I might have been interested. Not in the loo, though. I don’t fancy sexual encounters in a stall.”

“Our loo doesn’t have stalls. It’s a single seater.” John could have slapped himself. He heard James chuckle in the periphery. “I don’t mean to suggest--”

“I’d prefer my flat.”

John gaped, glancing between Sherlock and James. “Just like that? We’ve only just met, and you’re inviting us back for a shag?”

“Problem?”

“We don’t know a thing about each other. For all you know, we’re serial killers. Or you are.”

Sherlock scoffed. “I catch serial killers for a living. I would know if you and your boyfriend were ones. No, you’re both former military. He worked over you, so you didn’t start dating until you were both out of the army, which means you’re both men of principle. Also, I can tell by the way you interact that you are both giving and affectionate lovers. I would be hard-pressed to find a better couple to be with. Plus, lucky for you, I also have a type.”

John glanced at James, who was leaning over the counter with a wicked grin. “What’s that?” John asked.

“Strong, fair-haired, and military.”

John chuckled. “How did you know all that?”

“Come back to my flat, and I’ll explain it to you. I know you’d like to see me use my mouth.”

**Author's Note:**

> To be continued?


End file.
